Everyone Has One
by JustAnotherMadOne
Summary: Even people in the depths of a war have something to fear, each unique to them - A character study about phobias.
1. Scout - Silence

Scout - Silence

Scout was a Sedatephobic.

He could never stand silence, no matter what it was. Every time the emptiness came upon the area, he could feel it press against his lungs and heart. It wrapped around him and squeezed tightly against his form…

That's why he wouldn't stop talking.

Whenever silence tried to sneak up to him, Scout would start speaking about something, even if it was unrelated to the situation; whether it be about baseball, his family or any other topic he could think of.

It all started when he was about 15 years old.

He had been in a car with some of his friends, all of them driving home after a particularly wild party. His best friend, Damien, was driving with a beer-fogged brain and the taste of some sort of drug on the tip of his tongue. He was the only one with a licence, so he was the only who could drive.

That's when it crashed.

When he came to, he was lying in the shattered husk of the cars and blood ran down his face and fingers. The young Bostonian looked around, finding his friends all lying still and completely silent. He wanted any sound to permeate the night; an ambulance siren, loud rock music or even an angry dog barking.

Nothing.

Even after three years, he could never sit in silence without the sight of the bloody corpses of his closest friends and the car's metallic carcass. Without feeling that sick twisted feeling in the pit of his heart and stomach.

He never wanted silence to return.

But it would always try.

~*~

The room was completely quiet as the RED Team sat in their conference room, not knowing what to say to break the absence of noise.

Scout felt his heart pounding mercilessly against his ribcage, wondering if the others could just about hear it. Sweat slicked his brow and hands, the liquid running down his lithe form. His breath sped up until his chest began to burn and his head felt light.

It had to go away.

"Hey guys, did I ever tell you about that one time when I got expelled for blowing up a science lab?" Scout blurted out, unable to take the silence any longer. "Funny story actually!"

He saw the Medic roll his cold eyes, most likely annoyed about the Scout's outburst.

"What happened?" Heavy asked curiously, already interested in what the Scout had to say. His almost non-existent eyebrows were perked up, only emphasising the fact that he wanted to hear the little story.

Scout smirked with both pride and relief as he begun to tell his teammates how he 'accidentally' mixed the wrong chemicals in a Chemistry lesson and destroyed the lab he was in. But he wasn't really interested in his own words.

He was just relieved he stopped the silence for now.

 **Next:  
Soldier**


	2. Soldier - Failure

Soldier – Failure

Soldier was an Atychiphobic.

The thought of failure both disgusted and terrified him. Every time he realized that he had done something wrong, he felt panic wash over him as he ground his teeth in frustration. It was always these times he was glad he was wearing his helmet; no one could see his face becoming flush.

That's why he was so harsh with his comrades.

Whenever the team failed a mission and the feeling of dread that was slowly building up inched into him, he shouted at the others, blaming them for their actions that led them to lose a fight or fail to capture the Intel. He scolded them harshly until he felt all of the blame shift off of his shoulders.

It all started when he was a child.

Whenever he did something that was not perfect or even anywhere near perfect, his father would scream at him and, on particularly bad days, beat him. The American could remember crying over his failures, only for his father to scoff and march off, shouting blasphemies and obscenities at him.

It hurt so much.

He slowly became terrified of his work and actions failing, the thought of another verbal lashing or savage beating chilling him to the bone. Whenever he saw that he had done poorly, he tried to hide it from his father and pray that he never found out.

But he always would.

Even at his age of 48 years, he could never let go of the fear, never stop feeling fists against his ribs and he could never stop hearing the scathing remarks off 'pathetic little brat' or 'piece of dumb dirt'.

He wanted to be perfect.

But it would not always be.

~*~

The whole RED team groaned in anguish as the Administrator announced their disappointing defeat, her ice-cold voice stabbing the air with venomous words. On the other side, the BLU Team were cheering and were generally merry with the results of their victory.

"Damn Spies…" Engineer moaned, rubbing the back of his head with a gloved hand.

"Just when I thought things couldn't get stupid, a bloody Demoman hits me with a couple grenades!" Sniper grimaced as he recalled the rather painful death via explosion.

"I mean what the hell! It just ain't fair that those dumbasses could pull of some stupid ass trick to win!" Scout ranted, trying to fill in any inch of silence that dared to sneak in.

Soldier kept quiet, fear bubbling up in his stomach as he went over what had happened. The BLU Scout had managed to get their Intel quickly and it was all over faster than… well, a Scout. As soon as those wretched words left the ominous speakers, he felt nausea rise up and his father's words skulked into his head...

"MAGGOTS!" He screamed, catching everyone else's attention. "THAT WAS ONE OF THE LAZIEST BATTLES I'VE EVER SEEN IN MY LIFE!"

Spy rolled his eyes with a gentle sigh. "And here we go with the scolding…"

Soldier's obscured eyes darted to the Frenchman in question. "DON'T THINK YOU'RE EXCLUDED FROM THIS AS WELL, FRENCHIE!" He barked loudly, continuing his rant. "YOU'RE GONNA HAVE TO IMPROVE IF WE'RE TO WIN THIS WAR!"

As the Soldier continued his reprimanding, he could only let a small amount of relief go through him as he felt the blame for the team's failure slip slowly off of his shoulders.

If only he could always be free from the feeling…

 **Next:  
Pyro**


	3. Pyro - Water

Pyro – Water

Pyro was an Aquaphobic.

The thought of being in deep water terrified her deeply and when she was submerged in the brutal liquid, she felt like she couldn't stay above the surface, the immense pressure building against her head and lungs to the point she felt like she couldn't even begin to breathe or think…

That's why she was attached to fire.

It was the complete opposite of water; water was cruel and crushed every fibre of her being, while fire was warm and still let you breathe even as it licked against your body. It was a far more preferable way to get hurt or die in here often obscured eyes.

It all started when she was about eight.

She was at her school's swimming pool and just as she was about to step into the pool, a group of bullies pushed her in. She wanted to get out, but they grabbed her hair and kept her head down in the water until her eyes and lungs burned and cried for precious oxygen.

They laughed and tightened their grip.

She could remember darkness inching across her vision as she wanted air, her wish being completely ignored. She weakly scratched against the tree-trunk like arms that were grasping her hair, not succeeding one bit and only stopped when she passed out.

No one ever punished those bullies for what they'd done.

For the next twelve years, she couldn't get into a body of water without thinking about that incident, the feeling of panic and fear swelling into her body, the sadistic laughter of those bullies and freaking out when she was about to pass out. What happened ruined her life and she couldn't find a way to get over it.

She stayed with fire instead.

That's how it always would be.

~*~

BANG!

Sniper and Scout ducked behind the table again, a bullet aimed for their heads instead destroying an innocent bottle of scrumpy.

"Jeez, we said we were sorry!" Scout shouted at the rage filled Pyro in front of him and the Sniper. "Why can't you take a joke!?"

"A joke?" The Pyro screamed, wearing a casual red shirt and jeans instead of the usual asbestos suit. "You think pushing me into that goddamn pool of water was a JOKE!?" She held up the shotgun in her hands, pumping the firearm.

It was true; while Pyro had been walking around the front of their base at 2Fort, the Scout and Sniper snuck up behind her and pushed her off the bridge, sending her tumbling into the water that lay beneath. She heard the two of them laughing as she struggled to float, sending her mind back to what happened with those bullies. She screamed, feeling the cold water press against her ribs and skull mercilessly as she sunk lower and lower…

If the Engineer and Medic hadn't seen what had happened, she probably would have drowned.

"We didn't mean to make you so angry!" Sniper defended, hands over his head in hopes that he won't get hit. "If I had known that this would happen, I wouldn't—"

BANG!

The shotgun went off, blasting a nasty-looking hole in the red wall behind her two targets. "SHUT UP OR I'LL KILL YA!" She spat angrily, taking aim again. "YOU HAVE NO GODDAMN IDEA, DO YOU!?"

She breathed heavily as the anger slowly left her, taking in the damage she had managed to cause with her trigger-happy fury. She kept silent as she remembered how scared she was when she was pulled out, upset over her losing her temper.

Pyro ran out of the room, upset at how her fear ruined her life in yet another way.

She felt like burning something then.

It always made her feel better.

 **Next:  
Engineer**


	4. Engineer - Blood

Engineer – Blood

Engineer was a Haemophobic.

He could never see or think about blood without a wave of nausea overtaking him, his whole body becoming on edge and, on rare occasions, made him pass out. It seemed that the more blood there was, the worse he would feel.

That's why he tried to stay out of conflict

Whenever they were fighting, the Texan would always try and find a secluded spot and build a sentry, letting the machinery kill and shed blood in his place. He preferred building dispensers so that if someone did come bleeding, they would be healed quickly and efficiently.

It all happened when he about 12.

He was walking home at night with his friend Jake after a club at their school and they had been chattering about the idea of forming a band when they were older; it seemed like the perfect way to get money and recognition in one fell swoop. They began crossing the street, fondly laughing about what could happen…

Then the car came.

The Texan could remember the sickening crack as metal met Jake's frame, the dull thud as his friend was thrown to the ground and, most of all, the crimson substance that stained the young man's body. He couldn't say a word as he saw his friend gasp for breath, blood oozing out of his limp body, the sounds being rasps of 'help' and the driver's drunken screams.

They couldn't save him.

After 23 years, he was still angry at the driver and whenever he saw a few droplets of the scarlet fluid, he would be forced to recall his friend's death and the horrible, horrible blood. It was enough to make him black out, which for him was a godsend.

He stayed out of the battle's way.

But that didn't stop him seeing the blood of others.

~*~

Engineer sat in the Medbay, having a light conversation with the Medic about the progress of some maintenance work on one of the German's pieces of equipment.

"Dammit…! I need some help!"

The Spy limped in, gripping his left arm tightly. The Texan saw that the man's expression was that of intense pain as he clenched his teeth together and his left eye was tightly shut. But what caught his attention was the tattered suit…

…and the blood that flowed from his torn arm and leg.

Engineer felt his heart pump faster and faster, his breath shuddering as he saw the damage done to the Frenchman. Oh God, it was all coming back to him; Jake's body slamming against the car's armour, the shattering of glass, the screams of pain…

The Texan felt light-headed as the Spy inched further into the room, leaning against the examination table, blood staining his clothes and the floor. The two men looked at him with concern. "Herr Engineer!" Medic called out, a sewing needle and surgical thread in his gloved hands.

Darkness flooded his vision and the world spun as he fainted.

It was one of those days; looks like he's staying away from the Medbay. Again.

That would probably never change no matter what.

 **Next:  
Demoman**


	5. Demoman - Heights

Demoman – Heights

Demoman was an Acrophobic.

Heights were a true terror for him at all times, he felt that whenever he was at the top of a structure that was too tall, he panicked like there was no tomorrow and couldn't even bring himself to find a way back down to earth.

That's why he became interested in demolitions.

His theory was that if he destroyed any building that was tall, then he wouldn't have to worry about the thought of being at the top of the structure. As such, whenever there was an opportunity to destroy something with a well-placed grenade, he would fondly do so.

It all happened when he was around 10.

He was at his school and a group of bullies came up to him and his friend, Sean. They started picking on he two of them once again for their individual reasons, he for his skin colour and Sean for how his family didn't have very much money. But, after trying to stand up to the bullies, they were given a dare; to be able to climb up to the third floor windows of the old building and be able to get from one window to the far opposite.

The two of them accepted the challenge.

So, after making sure no teachers were in the proximity, the two young boys scaled the crumbling wall with only a black pipe to assist them. He could remember the adrenaline he felt as he stepped slowly along the windowsills, Sean shuffling slowly by his side. But when they had just stepped past the middle of their journey, they both slipped off and fell…

He got a broken leg and rib, Sean had a shattered skull.

After 25 years, the Scotsman often wished that he was the one who got broken into pieces in that fall, instead of his best friend. The doctors said it was a miracle that he survived the fall in the first place, considering how high up he was.

But why wasn't that the same for Sean?

He would probably never really know.

~*~

"Dammit Demo! Come down!"

"No! I-I won't!"

Demoman found himself on a very narrow ledge, clutching onto a metal support for dear life. He came up here attempting to catch a BLU Spy, only for the snake to disappear.

Now he was stuck. When he realised just how far up he was, he started to panic greatly, his whole frame shaking and sweat rolling down his skin. He was screaming in his mind that he was going to die, that he would end up the same as Sean.

"You won't get hurt! Just come down!" The Sniper shouted, annoyed at what was going on, even though it seemed that Scout found the scenario quite hilarious.

The Scotsman stayed where he was, obviously quite agitated with his situation. He held onto the metal tighter in hopes that he would not fall down and undoubtedly lead to his demise. He clenched his eyes shut, hearing the wind rush by his ears and the Sniper at the very bottom declaring that he was going to get the Demolitions expert down himself.

He wanted to try and forget this whole thing.

He almost always turned to the bottle to calm down.

But it couldn't ever erase the fear or what happened.

 **Next:  
Heavy**


	6. Heavy - Solitude

Heavy – Loneliness

Heavy was an Autophobic.

He could never stand the thought of being alone, even it seemed like a short time. There was even a point that if he even felt that no one else could see him or even acknowledge he was there, the same terrible feeling would bubble up in the pit of his stomach…

That's why he stayed near the Medic.

The Russian always felt at ease with the smaller yet older German man, as he was the first person he became friends with and would always be ready to assist the doctor. When the Medic was absent, he would hesitantly find someone else to be with.

It started when he was young.

He had always been tall and chubby when he was a schoolboy, so the others often tried to ignore his existence and they had succeeded easily. It only seemed to increase as he got older; everyone seemed more and more determined to ignore him.

Then he was thrown into a gulag.

He could recall how he had been forced to work for what seemed like endless hours of the day, the only company being fellow work-worn skeletons and stone-eyed soldiers that would bark at them for not being fast enough or thorough. He never saw his mother or sisters; he felt like he was in a lonely cage with the possibility of death hanging above him.

Even so, he would always feel like everyone saw him as a waste of space.

At his age of 31, he still had what others would see as a child's mentality when it came to his 'clingy' behaviour. But he felt that if they knew what had happened, they would be able to understand why he acted in such a way.

But a thought would always strike him, an icy dagger to the heart.

Maybe he would be alone in the end, no matter what…

~*~

"Herr Heavy, must you follow me like a stray puppy?" Medic asked, slightly annoyed at the Russian following him.

Heavy shrugged a little. "I wanted to help doctor." He responded, a smile on his face.

The German rolled his eyes. "Dummkopf… I'm only doing a patrol; I do not need assistance now." With that, he began to walk off with syringe gun in hand.

Heavy felt dread rise up in him, that awful feeling coming up in his stomach. Ws the Medic ignoring him? He wouldn't do that! The Russian started to feel like he was the only person there, all of the ignorance that was placed against him coming back.

"We go together, doctor!" he shouted, running up to the German in question. He wanted the feeling to go away, he wanted to feel that someone was there.

Medic finally sighed as he stopped in his tracks."Alright then… come along."

"Da, doctor!"

Heavy walked alongside the German, feeling at ease now that he had someone to be with, so he wouldn't be alone.

Why couldn't it always be this way?

 **Next:  
Spy**


	7. Spy - Enclosure

Spy – Enclosure

Spy was a Claustrophobic.

Even though he would never admit it, he could never stand the thought of being in a small space. When he was in such a place, he often found himself panicking and he even felt that he could not even breathe, the feeling of suffocation crawling into him…

That's why he tried to avoid capture.

He knew that if he was caught by an enemy, he would be restrained in any possible way. Whether it was being thrown into a cell or even just being confined to one place for too long, he would evade it at any cost and he almost always succeeded.

It started when he was 11.

He could remember waking up in the middle of the night, along with his twin brother Henri when they heard something loud. They both got out of their beds, wondering what was happening, only for their father to burst in, shouting for them to get out of the house. They could also hear their mother crying out for them. It was then they realized what was happening.

Their house was engulfed in flames.

The young French child panicked, running along burning halls in hopes of escaping as he held his brother's hand. The floor scalded their bare feet and smoke wrapped pitch-black fingers around their lungs, only for it to give way underneath them. He could easily remember hearing everyone's screams as the house collapsed completely, silence and darkness overthrowing everything.

He and Henri were found two days later under the rubble.

At his age of 42 years, he could clearly remember the feel of the debris pressing against his body, restraining his breathing to the point where they could only be tiny gasps. The darkness, the sound of his own laboured breaths, the pain that throbbed through him… Despite both Henri and himself getting out alive, neither of their parents survived. It didn't help that as he got older, he would be thrown into small rooms for interrogation, the cramped confines forcing him to remember.

He would never allow himself to be trapped again.

Even if it meant death…

~*~

Spy's breathing sped up greatly, his eyes wide even though the tiny room was engulfed in darkness. He pressed himself against the wall as sweat dripped down his frame, his hands scrambling to find a way out. He felt the walls lurk closer and closer, pressing precious oxygen from him…

"Let me out! This isn't funny!" He shouted, hoping that someone would find him. He couldn't believe what had happened; that goddamn Sniper decided to annoy the Frenchman by locking him into the closet and leaving him there for the rest of the night.

But he didn't know that's what Spy was scared of.

He grabbed hold of his mask and pulled it off quickly, along with his tie. Not enough air… He ripped open the top two buttons of his shirt, discarding his red blazer as well. The clothes drifted sadly to the floor, almost unaware of the Spy's panic. He trembled as he slid helplessly to the floor. "Oh Dieu… Oh dieu!" He panted, his slim frame trembling.

The door swung open, a very confused Russian on the other side.

"What is little Spy doing in closet?" he asked, looking down at the trembling Spy. He didn't expect him to break down, as if he had just been released from a nightmare.

"Oh Dieu… Merci…" the Frenchman gasped out, fear slowly leaving him as light poured into his senses and he breathed in the air in large gulps. Yet, he couldn't help but scold himself for not only making such a display, but for being captured.

He wouldn't stand for it.

Never again.

 **Next:  
Sniper**


	8. Sniper - People

Sniper – People

Sniper was an Anthropophobic.

He was completely unable to stand being around other people, even if he trusted them completely with his entire being. When he was caught in the company of others, he started to tremble as panic set in, sometimes to the point of where he felt like he was choking. He could barely even THINK about being around too many people…

That's why he was a loner.

He preferred to sleep outside in his beaten old van and, during battle, to stay in an isolated area in order to pick off enemies from afar. But he always preferred to tell his allies that it was better for his concentration; only the Medic knew his true reasons.

It all started when he was about nine.

He could clearly remember that during his years at school, a lot of people hated him. He only had a handful of friends who didn't care about his family living on, and making a living from, a farm or that they didn't have a great deal of money. However, everyone else still found ways to make him miserable, each scheme they had worse than the last.

It all peaked towards the end of the year.

The Aussie was elated to find that he would be given an award for his attendance for school, despite his father not really giving a damn about it. But, as he went up to collect it, he found himself covered head to toe with mud, thanks to a trap set up by a particularly cruel bully. He was speechless as catcalls of 'farm boy' and 'piggy' were shouted at him by the entire hall.

He was so ashamed; he spent the next week locked in his room.

After 18 years, did he feel that he could be around other people? No, not at all. He couldn't stand being in a room with too many people, as he started becoming panicky over what they thought of him and he was worried that if he was around them for too long, he'd go crazy or faint from anxiety.

Everyone thought he was cowardly for separating himself.

But they didn't really know.

~*~

The RED Team cheered loudly as they celebrated their victory over BLU, beer flowing and laughter in the air. It was special as it had been their fifth victory in a row after a particularly embarrassing streak of defeats. Everyone was full enjoying themselves as they drank and listened to bawdy jokes courtesy of Spy, Scout and Demoman…

…Except for Sniper, who was standing around the corner, his hat lowered over his eyes. Even though some of the others had tried over and over again to convince him to come and join them, he refused every time. They didn't even seem to notice his hands shaking or that he couldn't make any eye-contact with them as he told them that he was fine and to leave him alone.

But they still insisted.

"C'mon Sniper! It'll do you some good." Engineer borderline pleaded, a half-full bottle of beer in his gloved hand. "You're alone all the time, so it will be good for you to come and join us."

The Aussie shook his head, his stomach doing backflips at the thought of being around the rest of the team; to him, being around eight people was DEFINITELY too many for him. He felt his face begin to burn up (It must have been as red as his goddamn shirt!), panicking that there were hidden opinions about him that the others held. "Nah, I'm fine." He said for the god-knows-many time, looking away.

The Texan frowned a little, more in concern than in annoyance. "You know, it's a little strange that you don't like being around us at all." He folded his arms across his chest as he said this. "Is there any reason why?"

"Looks, it's nothing!" Sniper snapped, cursing that he was really panicking, trying to hide it as well as he could. "Just… leave me alone, okay?"

Without giving Engineer a chance to continue, the Australian turned on his heel and swiftly walked off as his chest clenched along with his already churning stomach. He cursed himself over and over as he still continued to think about being in that situation. They were probably speaking ill of him right now! Chances are Engineer would probably try and convince him again, but it would still be in vain.

He felt happier by himself.

It was the only way to get any peace.

 **Next:  
Medic**


	9. Medic - Death

Medic – Death

Medic was a Necrophobic.

His ultimate fear was that of death, whether it is himself dying or others dying. When the thought or sight of death met him, his mouth dried, his heart and breath went out of sync and his entire frame would tremble like a leaf…

That's why he practiced medicine.

He thought that he could be able to stop death by healing others until they would stay away from the cloaked monster, even if it were just for a brief amount of time. That's the reason he started in the first place; he could save lives and stop death's approach!

It all started when he was five.

He could clearly remember the shock that came when his mother died from pneumonia. He mourned her for days and days, even after the funeral service. Going there wasn't any better; his father was quiet and bitter as the priest said prayers and the immaculate coffin was lowered into the earth, moistened by gentle and cruel rain.

It never stopped after that.

When he was fourteen, his father was killed by soldiers for repeatedly and openly criticizing the Reich. Twenty years, his best friend Eli was sent to Auschwitz and died in the gas chambers. Twenty-five years, his first wife Irma died during an operation after she was in a car accident. Thirty-six years, his teammate Lukyan was shot in the head during a Ceasefire…

They were all stolen by Death.

Even at his age of 45, he could never get over their demises no matter what. He felt frightened whenever he was faced with the prospect. But he was successful in glossing over his fears as excitement, so his comrades would never discover his fear and declared him a coward…

He refused to let anyone die.

No matter how.

~*~

"Scheiβe!"

The Medic pressed his already bloodied hands against the Sniper's wound, hoping to stem the rivers of blood that slowly cascaded down the man's chest. The Aussie had been attacked during ceasefire by a very irate BLU Spy and now he had three bullet wounds to the chest.

Two were removed, but the third was deep.

The German started shouting for more bandages, details on vitals and a few more retractors. He was determined to complete the surgery; the Sniper WILL NOT DIE. His heart pumped mercilessly as the news of the low heart rate reached his ears, his cold eyes focused on the incision as he looked for the bullet still lodged somewhere in his comrade. He trembles as the thought of the Australian dying crawled into him, trying to force it away from his work. Just a little more…

Right there! Don't die!

His hands carry out the procedure as if it was burned into his muscle memory; gently pull the bullet out, drain excess blood, suture the entry wound, close up the patient's chest, close the incision… The Medic looks up, his eyes settling on the machine that measured his heart and breath, his shoulders slumping in relief as he sees it telling him that they were still going – the operation was successful.

If only death could be stopped.

But it always comes.

 **Next:  
EPILOGUE**


	10. Epilogue

EPILOGUE

All of the members of the RED Team (san Medic and Sniper) sat in the Recreation room, each doing their own thing. It was their day off (A very rare occurrence indeed!) and so they wanted to make the most of the 24 hours of freedom they have. The Scout growled as he handed over a small pile of dollars over to the Spy, a smirk on his face and a Royal Flush in his hands. The Demoman lay sprawled on his back with a blurred eye turned to the ceiling, Heavy attempting to nudge the Scotsman back into consciousness. Pyro was showing of a crudely-drawn blueprint of a flamethrower-sentry to Engineer, who was nodding and chuckling. Soldier stood hunches over aged maps of Germany, Poland and Prussia while whispering crazed plans to himself.

The door swung open slowly, no one noticing who it was. It was only when someone cleared their throat that they saw the Medic standing in the doorway, Sniper staring apprehensively at the floor. The German's expression told everyone in the room that he wanted to say something.

"Doctor! What is it?" Heavy asked, giving up on awakening Demoman.

Medic remained quiet as he stepped further into the room, the Australian behind him entering with hesitance. "Well, I thought of something that we should do." He explained, his tone showing his supposed authority.

The Russian looked at the Medic with his eyes saying 'tell us'.

He stood there, everyone's eyes (even the recently awoken Demoman, gripping his bottle of Scrumpy like a lifeline) focused on the Healer and Assassin. "Well, before we begin, Herr Sniper has something that he would like to confess." He stated, nodding to the other. "Well?"

Silence loomed, Scout's trembling being ignored by the other mercenaries in the room. Some, such as Soldier and Spy, wanted the Medic and Sniper to just shut up and leave them be. But others, such as Pyro and Heavy, truly wanted to hear what was to be said.

The Sniper mumbled something almost inaudibly, prompting a stern look from the German. The Aussie looked up with shame in his face; even with the aviators, everyone could just about see it in his eyes as well. "Well… I haven't been honest with ya about why I prefer being by myself…" he started, once again letting the Scout's sighs of relief glide over him. "It ain't because that I prefer being by myself… it's that… I'm scared."

With the words out in the open, the Aussie looked as though he was contemplating running away from the room and not looking back.

"So, that's what it is?" Engineer asked with a perked eyebrow. "I'd always wondered why you always run away from us. I thought it was 'cause you didn't like us or somethin'."

Everyone else had been confused; Sniper was scared of people? And why admit it now? The brief silence was broken with an incredulous scoff from Soldier. "Always knew you were a coward!" His harsh words prompted the Sniper to look away, his muscles tensed for fight or flight. "Maybe that's one of the reasons why we lose!"

"Oh, dieu!" Spy hissed, standing up in anger and marching over to the de facto leader. "Enough of this, you imbecile! It is your damn fault as well, just face up to the fact that you have made plenty of mistakes but you're too much of a fool to admit it!"

Everyone waited with bated breath. No one, NO ONE, flat out insulted the Soldier with such fierce bluntness! Before the psychotic patriot could say a word, the Medic stepped in. "This was not to embarrass or insult Herr Sniper!" He declared, once more showing his dominant tones. "There is a purpose to this!"

Everyone was lost on what he meant, so the German elaborated. "You are all aware of the idea of 'the first step to recovery is admitting that you have a problem', no?" He asked, earning a few nods but stillness from most. "Well, I think that underneath our images, we are all hiding a fear that cripples us when the so-called 'trigger' presents itself."

"There a point to this?" Demoman asked with slurred sounds, alcohol-tainted breath on his lips. "Or is it just going to be a round of Agony Aunt Time?" He kept silent when he was given a harsh stare by the elder of the two.

"My point is that I think that if we opened up about our own fears, then we may be able to get rid of them." He explained further, everyone listening to his every word. "Herr Sniper has told only me about his fear and so he agreed to be the first to express his. Now then, who would like to be the next to admit their fear?"

The room was quiet, everyone having an uneasy look on their faces. That is, until it was broken by a familiar youthful voice "F**k it! I admit!" Scout shouted, slamming his bandaged fists on the table. "I'm scared of silence! Okay, you happy know!?"

Before sound could leave completely, the Medic put on a proud expression. "Good, Herr Scout!" he praised. "We can work on the roots of that fear and then we can cure you of it! Who else?"

Engineer moved his hardhat a little. "Well… I can't stand blood, but I guess it was a little obvious from my fainting spells, uh?"

The German nodded as each member of the RED team slowly and surely made a clean breast of themselves, confessing the fears that they had been trying to hide for years. He could only nod and comfort everyone as he explained that he would try and remedy their 'conditions'.

They finally felt at ease about their phobias.

They wouldn't get in the way.

They'd be free from their crippling fears…

 **THE END  
DAS ENDE  
Конец  
LA FIN**


End file.
